In the Dying Light
by octoberland
Summary: Set during 2x13. Written for a Tumblr challenge. What if Carol didn't make it to the rendezvous point with the others? Daryl goes looking for her and doesn't like what he finds.


**Hello Everyone. So I'm back with another Tumblr Caryl challenge. This is for the What if? challenge in which we were given various what if? scenarios and asked to write for them. I chose the following prompt:**

**3) What if Carol had died when the farm was overrun in season two? Perhaps Andrea hadn't been there to shoot the walkers that had separated Carol from the truck? Or maybe Daryl hadn't been able to get to Carol in time when she was being chased across that field in the season two finale?**

**This is a short piece based off that prompt. Obviously spoilers through season two and it's not a happy story. I didn't have a beta for this and wrote it in a very short amount of time so if there are any errors I apologize. I do hope you like it in as much as one can like such a story.**

**Please do let me know what you think and for anyone who might be wondering, I have not given up on Hunting Lessons. Just got a little discouraged. Maybe this will perk me back up.**

**Thanks for reading! **

**Characters do not belong to me. No copyright infringement intended.**

"Where's the rest of us?" asked Daryl. They were on the highway where it all began, where they'd been overcome by a herd and lost Sophia. Now here they were again, driven back by another herd, more of their number lost to the walking dead.

"We're the only ones who made it so far," said Rick.

"Shane?" asked Lori, hopefully.

Rick shook his head 'no'.

"Patricia?" asked Hershel.

"They got her too," said Beth. She squeezed Hershel's hand and leaned into him.

"What about Jimmy?" Beth asked through her tears.

"He was in the RV. It got overrun." said Rick.

Daryl looked around, his heart hitching a beat. "What about Carol?" he asked.

"I saw her go down," said Andrea. She was standing next to Daryl. They were both leaning against one of the cars.

Daryl stiffened.

Andrea placed her hand on his arm. "I'm sorry," she said in a quiet voice.

"I'm gonna go back," said Daryl. He shrugged off Andrea's hand and headed for his bike.

"No," said Rick. "We need to stick together."

Daryl paused, but then he saw the message they'd left for Sophia, the one scrawled in soap on a windshield, and he thought of the last thing he'd said to Carol: _Sophia wasn't mine! All you had to do was keep an eye on her! _He'd almost hit Carol that night. He'd wanted to. He'd wanted to smash something and there she was, everywhere he went there she was. But not now. And he felt it. Her absence was like a limb torn off and he just wasn't going to stand for that. Not with the way he'd left things.

"I'm going." said Daryl. "An' you ain't stopping me."

He hopped on his bike, kicked it into gear, and took off back towards the farmhouse. The roaring engine drowned out Rick's voice begging him not to go.

He thought about their fight, thought about Sophia, even thought about his brother, Merle. The sun was setting, turning the leaves orange and gold, making it hard to see. He squinted as he weaved in and out of the abandoned cars, passing lone geeks along the way, till finally he was on the off-ramp.

The closer he got to the farmhouse the worse things were. He could smell smoke from the fire, could smell the dead. They were clogging the dirt road, making it hard to pass. He had to get up on the grass just to make it through.

"Carol!" he yelled out, looking towards the farmhouse. "Carol!" he yelled again.

His shouts were drawing the attention of the dead so he gunned his bike and made for the grounds around the house.

He saw Patricia's body, what was left of it anyway. And there, off to the side, the yellow knit scarf Carol had been wearing at Dale's funeral. He'd wanted to speak to her then, apologize, but there'd been too much to do, too much commotion. He'd watched her, the way the light hit her face and her eyes. Rick was going on about how Dale could see people, see who they really are. Well, he wasn't the only one. Daryl saw too and he needed to tell her.

He picked up the scarf and held it to his nose. It was bloody and caked with dirt. He closed his eyes as he breathed in her scent.

"Carol!" he yelled again, his eyes still closed.

He heard grunting behind him.

He turned just in time to avoid getting bit.

"Fucking geek!" he yelled. He shoved off his bike so forcefully that it fell to the ground.

"Fuck you!" he screamed as he swung at the lumbering dead man.

"Fuck you!" he screamed again as he punched it. Its jaw dislocated and went skittering across the lawn.

"Ha!" yelled Daryl. "How you like that, huh?" he asked as he backed away. He raised his arms in triumph, still holding Carol's scarf, and not paying attention to where he was going.

He tripped over his bike and fell backwards, hitting his head, hard.

As he lay there struggling to get up, walkers closing in, he looked over and saw Carol's body. She was gone. Bloody and bit and not a breath left in her. There were even a couple of Walkers still chewing on her.

"No." whispered Daryl. "No" he said again, his fist thumping the dirt beneath him. He tried to rise but his vision blurred. He could hear the Walkers closing in but it was like he was in a fog. He couldn't rise, he couldn't focus. He touched the back of his head and felt blood pooling there. He closed his eyes.

"Whatcha gonna do now, baby brother?" he heard Merle ask him.

Daryl opened his eyes and saw Merle standing over him.

"I gotta find her," he replied, still squirming, still trying to stand. As he sat up his head began to spin.

"She needs to know," he said, his voice breaking.

"Know what?" asked Merle.

But before Daryl could answer him he passed out. The last thing he saw before darkness overtook him was Carol's scarf in his hand. In his mind he saw her wearing it, standing there by Dale's grave in the dying light. Only this time she turned and looked at him, and she gave him one of her small smiles, and he knew everything would be alright.

_If today was not an endless highway, _

_If tonight was not a crooked trail, _

_If tomorrow wasn't such a long time, _

_Then lonesome would mean nothing to you at all. _

_Yes, and only if my own true love was waitin', _

_Yes, and if I could hear her heart a-softly poundin', _

_Only if she was lyin' by me, _

_Then I'd lie in my bed once again._

Bob Dylan ~ Tomorrow Is A Long Time


End file.
